From, the Memoirs of a Malfoy
by deeh
Summary: Draco and his very, very sarcastic perspective of the events of the seventh book's epilogue. Short, sweet and to the point. Rated only for language.


**A/N:** I don't exactly know what this is. This is merely something I whipped up in about twenty-minutes because I was bored and I had just re-read the seventh book, epilogue and all. If you think this is the sequel to 'He was Saved' I'm sorry that it's not because that is currently still in the process of being written! (It's taking me forever) I'm sorry if it's really something not worth reading, because I honestly think it's rather pointless. These are in fact my views on the infamous epilogue that has sent everyone into a buzz. Quite frankly although it's all fluffy and sweet, some parts of that epilogue irked me. This is a general fic, no romance or anything but because I am a DHr shipper, there will be some suggestion of it but don't worry this is all non-AU and that 'suggestion' only lasts one line.

I feel a bit down today, maybe because I'm really sick but I managed to pull this one for you guys! Oh and excuse my sarcasm throughout this thing...whatever it is.

I hope you find some amusement from it to the very least.

**Disclaimer:** I really can't think of anything creative to say at the moment, besides... I don't own it!

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**From, the Memoirs of a Malfoy**

Yesterday was a ridiculous day. For not only was it Scorpius' (How I pride myself everyday in giving him such an excellent name) initiation into Hogwarts (Slytherin, no doubt) but I met _them _again. Of course who should I encounter but the bloody Potter-Weasley clan? (Granger, included despite her name now being Weasley, urgh!) There they were in all their bright and happy-go-lucky glory laughing to the point that it became nauseating to watch. I don't care if I'm in alliance with them, _friendship Yay!_ Disgusting.

I paid my respects to them of course, they (of all people on this godforsaken earth THEM WHY THEM?) had saved my life nineteen years ago, along with my family. Of course as Slytherins, we made the smart decision and gracefully stepped across the proverbial threshold and onto the other side, thanks to mother. Yet standing there watching The boy-who-is-just-so-brilliant-that-he-just-wouldn't-fucking-die-no-matter-how-many-times-you-have-to-fucking-Avada-him-in-the-face, and his wife the Weaselette along with their children named after (three guesses who) both former Headmasters (surprise, surprise), and the aforementioned boy's (not that we're boys anymore, but Potter is really such a juvenile git) dead parents (again, surprise, surprise).

It was then that I stumbled across the most ludicrous train of thought, and I almost impaled myself on my own wand or jumped before one of those muggle cars because of it. _I found myself wondering how it was genetically possible for some of The Golden Boy's children to have red hair!_ Utterly stupid, I know. Never would I ever call myself a muggle-lover yet having excelled at both Arithmancy and Potions, I do like to permit myself to be called a man of science. I realised that all Potter's children should have had black hair, because black hair was the dominant gene. (I really don't know why I'm writing this down, but it's bothering me so I will and perhaps burn this later). After much more thought I remembered Potter's muddleborn (after Granger entered wizarding law, the use of my favourite term became illegal, so I developed my own correlation of the word) mother was a carrot-top and realised that there existed the off chance of Harry passing on his mother's gene... and yeah you get the point. I blame it on the mandatory muggle studies –required by law. Damn Granger and her legislations! Thanks to her my house elves now receive a salary and worker's rights!

I am SO disturbed. Maybe because Isabella is on a business trip, and I haven't got any in a while.

Moving on. So there was the god awful Brady bunch, laughing and smiling and being nauseating. I saw Granger and the Weasel, and their children Rose and Hugo. (Who the hell in their right mind would name their child Hugo? A Weasley, no doubt) I watched her and again another ridiculous notion entered my head: we could have been something. Granger and I. Yes. I know. It's ridiculous. And stupid. And defies everything I once believed in. It's regretful that she had to stoop as low as the Weasel King. Wait, I'm supposed to be married. Isabella is fantastic, beats the pug-faced Pansy any day (she skipped off with Blaise) and at least I didn't have to confund the examiner to pass my driving test like the Weasel King. I digress, ferrets are much better animals anyway and I own a Lamborghini!

Doesn't it disturb anyone else, how happy they are? Doesn't anyone else find that wretched display of affection fucking annoying? Half their family and friends died, and their _okay_ with that? Am I the only person who thinks that, this has become some kind of horrible soap opera?

As I said, nauseating.

One moment - I've just received an owl, an eagle owl, Scorpius' owl. Ah bless him, it's been one day and he's already writing to us. One minute Isabella's screaming her head off, intent on shattering my arm to bits while swearing that she'll emasculate me if I ever make her suffer this pain again – and out he pops out like a little ugly crying thing. I don't know how people think newborn babies are cute, they're slimy, they're ugly and they look like sickly gremlins with severe rash with all the red splotches they have everywhere. And they cry. Oh Merlin do they cry. But Scorpius is a Malfoy, he was a brilliant child, naturally. I think babies in general are a fantastic pain in the arse. If we ever fall pregnant again I think I'd save Isabella the trouble and emasculate myself. Actually, no I wouldn't. I'd rather chop my legs off. Or give up magic, and I mean it. It's only when babies reach a few weeks and they open their big eyes and start making those gaga noises that women go gaga for, that they seem... cute.

Anyway, he's now eleven and beginning a marvellous journey deeper into the world of magic, (he is pureblood after all.) He's almost hit puberty (Oh god, where will that take us?) and he's at the perfect age where I still see within him, the child he once was and but a glimpse of the man I know he will be. Merlin's castrated testicle, I _am_ disturbed. I'm turning into one of _them_. I must destroy this later. Ah adolescence, the hell away from hell – where we'd most likely walk in on him wanking or something, because that's the way it goes. Or Professor Longbottom will, (HOW did that dunderhead manage a position in _education?_ Ah but these are the same people that hired the half-giant. However, Scorpius he's a Malfoy, he takes after me, he probably wouldn't even need to fly solo, if you catch my drift. He'd probably shack up here on the summer of his sixth or seventh year with a nice Slytherin girl and he'd guide her with pride along the Manor and I might catch a glimpse of them snogging behind one of the gargoyles. That's unlikely to happen though, with all the wards and spells I've taught him (to which he mastered with an expertise that surprised even me) I wouldn't have to catch him. He's intelligent that boy, more intelligent than that Rose Weasley, who I hear takes after Granger. (Rose? _Rose?_ They name their child Rose? As in _Red Rose?_ For the colour of her hair? REALLY creative) .

He'll be brilliant one day.

I open the letter.

"...ISSSSSSSAAAAAAABBBBBBBEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAA!!!! ISABELLA! ISABELLA! ISABELLA!"

It was then, that my brain decided to remind me that she was on a business trip. So instead, I decide to do the next best thing than reprimanding my wife and sharing this horrible, devastating news: run around screaming like a mad man.

Perhaps I'll get drunk of my face later.

But for now, I'll content myself with plaguing the halls of the Malfoy Manor like a headless chicken.

Goodbye. You might find that I'll commit suicide tomorrow, or suffer from alcohol poisoning. Both are equally viable possibilities.

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_Dear Father (and mother if you're there),_

_The prestigious sorting ceremony is over, I'm aware this is rather early, but guess what? I'M IN GRYFFINDOR!_

_I get to be with Hugo and Rose and Albus! Isn't that brilliant? I think I like Rose, she's really nice. So are the rest of the Gryffindors! _

_Things are great!_

_I'M IN GRYFFINDOR!_

_Bye for now, Yours Always,_

_Scorpius._

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A/N: Wow, I'm cruel. But it seemed funny at the time. And yes, I was actually sitting down at one point, thinking about how it was genetically possible for Harry Potter's children to have red hair... how sad am I? I even did the whole punnet squares thing (for all you biology students out there). Review if you want to:D But seriously this is one of those filler things that I just wrote really quickly because I'm suffering a writer's block and I needed to break it.

I just realised how short this was. But enough of me, and my verbal bashing of Ron. (I actually think he's funny) Bye for now, but nor forever.

- deeh


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